Hidden Love
by Psychette
Summary: Monica Reyes & John Doggett have finally realized their love for one another, but is it real or is John just dreaming this all up? Perhaps it's just a paranormal event bringing the two together.
1. Monica's Feelings

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the characters John Doggett or Agent Reyes.  
  
Note To The Readers: This is my first romance story relating to both Agents. Be warned it is extremely corny and overly romanced, but I think it has a nice plot to it. Positive reviews are welcomed! Thank you.  
  
"...Hidden Love..."  
  
CHAPTER 1 - Monica's Feelings  
  
FBI HEADQUARTERS. AGENT DOGGETT'S OFFICE; BASEMENT. 9:34 AM. John Doggett sat at his desk going over some of the latest X-Files. How did he ever manage to get himself into such BS? He didn't believe in any of this. He didn't believe the paranormal, supernatural. It all meant one thing to him; insanity. And he sure as hell didn't want to be fit into that group. He threw down his pencil as Agent Reyes walked in. She was an extreme beauty, but something looked different. She didn't really have that shine in her eyes as she usually did. Infact, that morning she looked quite tired. "You okay, Agent Reyes?" John asked with concern. Agent Reyes, looked up, while taking off her small jacket. She nodded. "I'm fine, thank you, John. I just didn't sleep much last night."  
  
"Perhaps an X-File?" he smirked playfully. Reyes rolled her eyes. Agent Monica Reyes was rather different from Agent John Doggett. She believed anything anyone told her that related to the paranormal. Of course she had her quirks, such as believing diet coke was better for you than regular coke, and although it supposedly is, John Doggett preferred regular coke to diet coke any day. "Well, what happened?" Doggett asked as he watched her sit down a few feet away from him, at her desk. "I don't know John. I'm just scared to go home. It's like I get these feelings..."  
  
"Feelings? Like what kind of feelings...?"  
  
"Like somebody's watching me. And at night I keep myself up thinking somebody is in the room with me and it scares me so much...just my imagination I guess."  
  
"Monica?"  
  
Agent Reyes looked up at Doggett. "Yes?"  
  
"How long has this been happening?"  
  
"A few weeks, I guess." "Well I gotta tell you Monica," Doggett's New York accent briefly showed distinction in his voice. "You don't look too good. Maybe you oughta stay at my place for a couple of days...I mean I have an extra room. Maybe there's something more to these feelings of yours..."  
  
Monica looked up at him. "You're sweet John, but...it's probably just nothing. And how can you say there's something more to my feelings? Now, you are making it sound like an X-File..!"  
  
Monica laughed lightly, and a small grin appeared around the corners of John's mouth. "You sure Monica?" he asked. "Yes, it's alright John. I'm sure it's nothing." Doggett was still filled with concern. Monica never seemed so unsure of something. He didn't like to see her like this. Later in the day when things weren't going any better for Monica (She spilled her coffee on AD Skinner. Tripped and fell while going back downstairs and cut her knee. She couldn't get any of her work done due to falling asleep every five minutes. Doggett had to constantly wake her up) it was time to go home. Agent John Doggett offered her a ride. "Yes, please, John. I'm so tired."  
  
"I know, Mon."  
  
They walked out of their office and headed to his small silver Lexus. Monica sat upfront with him and put her seatbelt on, something John often forgot to do himself, but this time thanks to Monica, he put his on as well. There was silence throughout the whole ride. Monica kept her eyes to the window next to her, watching everything go by her...just like in real life. John looked over at her a couple of times. When they finally arrived at her apartment, Doggett suddenly got a bad feeling. "Mon, why don't you just spend the night at my house and we can pick up your stuff tomorrow or somethin'."  
  
Monica looked over at him. "Oh John," she said putting her hand across his cheek. It was something that startled John, but he liked it. "I just need a good night's sleep. That's all. But thank you..." Doggett shook his head and lowered it, wishing Monica wasn't so stubborn. "Won't you please stay over...I--I now have my own feelings...and believe me Monica, I may not believe in the paranormal, but I do believe in my feelings. And inside me right now I have a bad feeling...so, won't you please, please stay over for the night, at my place, even if it's only one night. It'll make me feel so much better." Monica frowned. Why was John acting like this? She sighed deeply. "I...well..." she stopped what she was saying as John's eyes turned really big. He was giving her his blue-eyed sad puppy dog look, a look that never seemed to fail him before. She sighed again. "Okay, let's go to your place. I just want sleep."  
  
Doggett smiled. "Okay." He turned on the engine on and left for his home. Monica's eyes closed lightly as he slowly made their way to his home. He was glad Monica decided to change his mind. It was for the best. Then John's thoughts paused for a moment. What if his feelings were wrong? What if deep down, he just wanted Monica to go to his home, so he wouldn't have to go home alone. Going home every night to an empty house was a horrible feeling. John hated it. He always seemed to think about Monica when he was home. Her face and big brown eyes. The way her hair fell into her face. The way she smiled every morning when John looked into her eyes. He sighed deeply looking over at her. Her breathing slowing down as she lightly drifted off into dreamland. This put a small curl to John's lips. They arrived at his house, the whole street and neighborhood quiet and dark. This in a way, frightened John. He had never seen the neighborhood like this. So dark and mysterious. Like everyone had up and left, but being an FBI Agent and a man, he tried to brush off his fears. He was afraid of waking up Monica. She needed her sleep so bad and John hated to see her in this condition. He opened up his front door and then opened up the passenger's side and lifted Monica out of the seat and into the house. He placed her on his brown leather couch and then locked up his car and shut the front door, turning on the lights and the air. It was stuffy inside. He took off his coat and threw it down on the table, loosening his tie. He sat down next to Monica, who was still asleep, had already made herself comfortable on the couch, curling into a ball. She began to stir in her sleep, but once again was in a deep sleep. "Mon?" he whispered, leaning closer in. Her breathing was faint. John smiled. He leaned back over to his side and watched her for a long length of time until Monica finally woke up and saw him, watching and staring at her. At first it startled her, but then she realized that it was just John's usual stint. "John?" she asked looking around, his smile faded. "Yes, Mon?" "What happened?" "Well you fell asleep and I couldn't bring myself to wake you. You looked so peaceful...and calm. You looked like you were in a place of harmony and serenity, and I didn't want to take that from you." Monica smiled, her hand once again being placed on the side of John's face and this time, John grabbed at it with his own. This warm sense of comfort and security coming from both of them. John felt the soft texture of her hand against his face. "John, you can be so sweet."  
  
"Yeah," he whispered quietly, "but that's what you like about me, right?"  
  
"True. Among other things."  
  
These words brought John to smile. They're hands still touching, they lightly moved in, they're eyes closed. Monica removed her hand away from John's cheek, and placed it around his neck. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up from this movement. Slowly, they leaned in to kiss, but the phone rang and they instantly jumped back from their close spots. "Be right back," John said irritably and sat up. Monica smiled, watching him walk to the phone and answer it. " 'ello?" he answered. "John Doggett, may I offer you a great deal of Home Life Insurance from --"  
  
Click. John hung up and scowled. "John?" Monica asked. John turned around and faced Monica's endless beauty. "Who was it?" she asked in a worried tone. "Nuttin' important, unless you wanted a great deal on life insurance."  
  
Monica sighed with relief. "I see," she replied. John slowly made his way towards her. "Why?" he asked sitting back down next to her. "Why what?" she asked playfully. John grabbed her hand and with his own, he intertwined their fingers together. Monica stared down at their hands in shock. Was John crushing on her? John noticed her stare. "Monica?" he asked. She looked up. "Why were you worried?" "I thought maybe it was a case or something. I didn't want you going out."  
  
John smiled, this time staring down at their hands. "You make it sound like we're married," he laughed. This made Monica nervous and she pulled away from him. "What are you trying to say, John?"  
  
"Nothin'...what are you trying to say, Mon?" "Nothing."  
  
"Then there you go."  
  
Monica paused for a moment, her arms wrapped around her as John watched her. Something was on her mind. "John, what's going on here?" John shrugged his shoulders. "What do you mean, Mon?"  
  
"John, I'm at your place, for no reason except for one you claim as feelings...feelings that are supposed to be warning you of something bad that's supposed to happen..."  
  
John's heart fell into his stomach and already he felt as if he were digesting it. "...and then I wake up, and you're staring at me, and then we almost kiss, and now you start to hold my hand into yours..."  
  
John looked up at her and into her eyes. Her eyes were becoming watery and this made John sad that he had made her cry. He felt horrible. "I'm sorry, Mon. I don't know what got into me."  
  
Finally Monica began to shed tears. "I just can't believe in any of this John. Your timing is horrible. I've showed feelings for you over these last years and you turned me down each time and when I think I lost my chance for something to ever happen between us, suddenly you show me a little romance..." "I never knew you liked me that much...I mean c'mon Mon, who could ever like me?" John asked looking down. He was afraid to look into her watery eyes. For he was afraid, he himself would cry. "Why...why would you say that John?" the tears in Monica's eyes showing even more. John looked her into the eyes and in the corner of his appeared to small droplets. They went unnoticed however. He placed his thumbs against the side of her eyes and wiped away the newly shed tears, and to his surprise, Monica grabbed one of his arms and pushed it against her cheek. Embracing it. Her eyes closed as a few more tears swiftly fell down her cheek. John, with his free hand, wiped them away as she gently rocked back and forth, his hand still against her check. Again she repeated herself, her eyes still closed, "John, why would you say that?" John just paused for a moment thinking about it. "Well...I just...I've always hid my emotions, I guess. I mean who could ever love me? I'm not as young as I once was, Mon. I'm divorced with one son, who passed away, years ago. I've got dopey ears and I'm an uptight FBI agent who feels that The X- Files shouldn't even exist..."  
  
Monica, opened up her eyes, and found John's filled with tears. He couldn't hold them back anymore, and he felt he was safe to cry with Monica's eyes closed, but once he looked up and saw her staring at him, he pulled his hand away and covered his face. Monica tried to pull his hands away. "No, John. No...It's okay to cry. Please, don't hide. I didn't hide..."  
  
"But you're different, Mon."  
  
"Don't talk like that John...and if you do, then don't hide from me...I don't think I deserve that."  
  
John hid from her for a few more minutes and then finally removed his hands from his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Oh God, John..."  
  
He went to hide again, but she held his hands down. She reached over for a Kleenex on the coffee table and then wiped the tears away from his eyes. This was the first, truly, emotional time that she had saw John like this, and although it was sad, it also brought her closer to him. Any man that could cry was fine by her. "You should never hide from your emotions, John," Monica said, as he grabbed her hand and rubbed her palm with his thumb. He looked down at her hand while she still wiped away his tears. "Because, then it hides the goodness in you. It hides who John Doggett really is and I know why you hide your emotions."  
  
He looked up at her. "You hide them due to fear and rejection. You hide them, because you feel they make you weak. Like a small child, who needs his mother, but John, hiding your emotions, only makes things worse..."  
  
He looked back down at their hands. "...Age doesn't matter either John. Age is overrated. It's what's on the inside that counts. You're young at heart John, and that makes you young no matter what. And you can be uptight about the FBI's X-Files, but then again you're a facts kinda man. I'm only thankful I haven't scared you off with my beliefs in the paranormal." John smiled at this. "Never," he replied looking back up at her. "Then who could I fight with my so called facts?" this made Monica laugh. John reached in and hugged her tightly. They pulled away and John wiped away Monica's remaining tears. "Can I tell you something else?" Monica asked him. John nodded. "I think your ears are adorable," she said. Her finger caressing the top of one of them. John blushed. "You're jus' saying that Mon."  
  
"No, they're cute. I've always loved your ears and I've always loved you, even if you never saw it."  
  
"I saw it," John said, "I just could never believe it." "Well believe it Mister," she said playfully. John smiled. "Where do we go from here, Mon?" John asked suddenly.  
  
"Well, where do you want it to go from here?" Monica replied. "It seems all so surreal. Kinda fast too. Do you think we're rushing things?"  
  
Monica was afraid of this. "John, if you wanna back out now, just tell me."  
  
"No, I just don't want to make you do something you're not comfortable with."  
  
"Like what? Make love to you?"  
  
"What? Monica, no I mean like getting into a relationship with me." "Well, why are you suddenly ready for all of this, where is before you weren't?" Monica questioned him. John sighed. Even he didn't know the answer to this question. "I didn't realize it today. I didn't realize, the love I had inside me. All of it meant for you. And you're right, I did hide my emotions and feeling due to fear and making me feel weak...but not anymore, Mon," John put his hand on Monica's cheek again, making her feel secure. "Not anymore. Now I wanna make it up, by giving you all of my love, everyday." Tears swiftly came from Monica's eyes again and John once again brushed them away. "Don't cry, Mon. I'm here for you now." "That's what I'm afraid of."  
  
John's eyes widened. "What do ya mean?" he asked. Monica paused for a moment, more tears following her sadness, only to be wiped away from John's thumbs. "What if this is all too surreal...and that in the morning or anytime soon this will all end." "It won't end. I promise."  
  
"You can't promise," Monica scoffed. "How can you sit here and tell me that you're here for me now, when I needed you months ago?" John sighed. "I know Monica. But that's in the past. I'm here for you now..."  
  
"But even though it's in the past, it still hurts."  
  
"I know."  
  
"No, you don't," Monica retorted. She moved back away from John. Her sadness hitting him once again and this time he felt as if his heart had stopped moving altogether. "You don't know it feels, nor will you ever."  
  
"What are you saying Monica? That's I'm incapable of feeling things? That I can't love or feel loved?"  
  
"No, John," Monica said. "No, that's not it at all. You missed my point."  
  
"Then explain your point," John said impatiently. Monica sighed. "I meant that you'd never understand how much I went through when I didn't have you. I went through so much pain and loneliness."  
  
"Well, see, that's why I'm here, Mon. I need you. You need me. We should both be here together for each other."  
  
Monica wanted to cry so much again. Tears were building up already. "But what if it ends, is all I'm saying. How can this love possibly continue when for so long it was apart?"  
  
"That's the beauty of it, Mon," John replied. Monica's eyes widened with confusion. "That's what makes us stronger. That's what makes our love stronger. Without that there'd be nothing. Our hidden love helps keep us in line. Don't you see, Mon? This isn't just some teenage love, this is the real thing." "But how do you know John? How do you know it's the real thing?" Monica asked. "I don't, but I can feel it. This is true love, Mon. Sure it will take time to develop, but it'll be worth it." "I hope you're right, John," Monica said, a lonely tear made its way down her cheek and John wiped it off. "I hope you're right." "Listen to your heart Mon. And you'll see if I am."  
  
Monica's eyes scanned his and felt the love that he was giving her. She felt it to be true. He patted her leg and said, "C'mon lets go to bed. You can sleep in Luke's room."  
  
"Are you sure, you want me to sleep in Luke's room?"  
  
"I don't mind, unless you have another idea," John grinned. "You have a dirty mind, John," Monica replied sheepishly. "Well, if you wanna sleep in Luke's room. It's alright, seriously Monica."  
  
Monica nodded and she and John walked up the stairs. "G'night, Mon" John said, starting to walk into his room, which was next to Luke's. "Good night John," Monica said disappearing into Luke's room. John gave one more faint smile, before he also went into his room. He changed into more comfortable sleeping clothes; an overly sized sweatshirt and some jogging pants and looked up to see Monica staring at him in the doorway. He was shocked to find her watching him. He coughed loudly. "I'm sorry, John. I should have knocked, but I was wondering.."  
  
He looked at her, hoping she would say what he wanted her to say. "Can I borrow a shirt or something? We kinda left my place without getting any extra clothes and I don't think I can sleep in my outfit."  
  
John chuckled lightly. Not the exact thing, but nevertheless. He nodded. "Sure, Mon. I'll find you something."  
  
She waited in the doorway, while he looked around in his closet and pulled out a heavy, large sweater. "How's this?" he asked playfully. "Perfect," she said with a smile as he handed it to her. "I am sorry about tonight...I feel awkward about that."  
  
"No, it's fine. I'm glad I came."  
  
She touched John's hand lightly when she grabbed for the sweater. "Goodnight," he said in a light whisper. She nodded and took her leave. John smiled lightly and then shut the door. How he wished she had asked to sleep with him tonight. He sighed and sat in bed.  
  
Monica walked into Luke's room, the darkness creeping all over. She changed and put on John's old sweater. Thank God it was long enough that she didn't need to wear her pants. She slipped into Luke's bed. And closed her eyes, instantly falling into sleep. Then the dreams began to form... Monica woke up to find complete blackness. She sat bolt up right and stood up for several seconds until the gray light from outside's full moon shined inside Luke's room. Monica threw back the covers and walked out of the room and headed towards John's room. She peered inside, but John was nowhere to be found. "John?" she called out. Silence. She heard screaming downstairs and ran into Luke's room, pulling out her magnum from where her clothes were at in the corner and headed downstairs, fast at first, and then slow, listening closely. Another scream. She looked down, into the darkness and saw John on the floor, bleeding. He looked up at her and shook his head, motioning for her to go back upstairs. "Oh God, John..." she yelled out. He again shook his head. "Monica...Run away...right now. Run away...before --" Monica's eyes filled with tears as a stranger in black, someone who resembled a figure she saw in her own apartment before, shot at John. John's eyes closed and he was motionless. Monica screamed as the figure, turned and looked up at her. Its eyes glowing with this immense darkness. Something Monica had never seen before. She screamed again, and turned to run upstairs, but she was suddenly frozen with fear, but also frozen from some other force. She turned around and the creature came at her and threw back a dark cloak it had been wearing. The darkness covered up its face, but Monica could see its large mouth clearly and inside as it opened up, laid thousands, hundreds of small teeth. Monica screamed once again as it came at her. It's teeth getting closer and closer. Monica woke up in a cold sweat. John looking at her, the light from a small lamp on the desk switched on from John. She looked up at him with fear and shock. "Monica?" he asked. "What the hell where you dreamin' about?" Monica breathed deeply trying to catch her breath. "I -- nothing, it was a nightmare." John's eyes filled with concern. Monica looked at his chest. In her dream his chest was covered in bullet holes and blood. John looked down as well. "What's wrong?" he asked, walking over to her. She was still staring at his chest, when he sat down next to her. He placed his arm around her shoulder, in taking some of the coldness that surrounded her. She put her hand against his chest and rubbed it lightly, still thinking she was in a dream. He smiled lightly, watching her. "My heart's over here," he said pointing to the left, smiling sheepishly. Monica looked up at him and then put her hand on the left side of his chest, feeling his heart beat against her hand. It made unshed tears build up inside her. Doggett watched her for several seconds. "Hey, what's gotten into you?" he asked as she stared blankly at his chest again. She removed her hand from his chest and placed both her hands in her lap. "I had a horrible nightmare..."  
  
"So, you've said," John responded quietly. "Wanna talk about it?..."  
  
Tears slowly made their way down Monica's cheeks and John instantly wiped them off. It seemed like a job for him, but he enjoyed it. "I'm sorry," she cried, "for sobbing once again."  
  
John pulled her in for a hug and they held each other for several minutes. John inhaled her scent while she cried into his shoulder. Monica was the first to pull away. "You really wanna hear about my nightmare?" she asked sadly. John nodded, putting his hand up against her cheek and rubbing it tenderly. This put Monica in a relaxed state and she closed her eyes, her hand against his. "I dreamt you were killed," as she said this her mind flashed an image of John downstairs with the blood soaked t-shirt from the dream and Monica opened her eyes in a heartbeat and she stared blankly into John's worried eyes. "This thing...this creature...shot at you and you were bleeding. Your chest covered in blood," he stopped what she was saying and put her hands on his chest again. John looked down. "It was so vivid, so real..."  
  
"Mon, it's okay. I'm here. I'm safe. See," he said, putting his hands over hers to show that he was all in one place. "I'm fine."  
  
Monica's eyes filled with water as she turned away. "I know, John. I know it was only a nightmare. One that seemed real..."  
  
"Shh...Mon. It's okay. I know how scary dreams can be..." he paused for a second, "did anything else happen?" She looked over at him, wiping her tears away. "You know," he said, "in your dream." She nodded. "The thing took off its cloak and made its way towards me, on the stairs, and I couldn't move. It was as if it took my fears and worries and used it against me. I was paralyzed. It opened its mouth and inside was hundreds of small teeth. I screamed and then woke up..." John chuckled lightly and this upset Monica. "Why are you laughing?" she asked. "I'm sorry, Mon. I know it's a serious thing. But I've heard about this before."  
  
"You have?" He nodded. "He's called a Nluck Clu-Slurk. He's a dream demon. He comes to you when you have a lot on your mind, and harms those you love, in your dreams, but that's all. I heard that if you are visited by such a creature, he'll bring good luck to you and those who were involved in your dream."  
  
Monica sighed. "Wow..." she paused for a second. "Wait a minute...how do you know this? Sounds like an X-File."  
  
John smiled evilly. "The Lone gun man told me about him. I don't believe the whole good luck thing though..." "Of course," Monica mumbled. "Well, do you?" he asked. "I might as well. I believe in everything else."  
  
John looked at her for a second as she looked away. "Well then," he said exhaling deeply, she looked up at him. "I'll believe it too. Maybe it'll give us both good luck."  
  
Monica smiled. "You don't have to, John."  
  
John shook his head. "No, I want to." Monica smiled once again as did John. She looked at his chest again, the violent images visiting her once again. John put his shoulder around her and brought her closer to him. "Hey, I'm okay," he said. She nodded. "I know." "Think you'll be able to sleep any?" he asked her. Monica nodded. "I think so," she said. "Thank you John." John nodded and sat up. "Well I'll see you in the morning," he said and closed the door behind him. Monica sighed. She wished now that John hadn't left. She didn't want to be alone. Finally after about 30 minutes of tossing and turning Monica sat up and walked into John's room, it resembled her dream. She opened the door, afraid he wouldn't be there, and he wasn't. She covered her mouth. Okay Mon, don't panic. Maybe he's downstairs watching TV? She slowly made her way downstairs and saw a light in the corner of the room; she peered around and saw John in the kitchen. "John?" she asked. John looked up. The light came from the fridge door. "Hey, Mon. Still can't sleep?"  
  
She shook her head. Her arms crossed. John looked down at her legs. They were so soft looking. Monica didn't notice until he looked down at them again. "What are you looking at?" she asked. He shook his head. "Nuttin. Want a sandwich?" he asked. "Sure, what kind?"  
  
"Good ol' peanut butter."  
  
"Okay, that's fine," she said walking up to him as he grabbed two more slices of bread. "So, what were you staring at my legs for?" Monica whispered into his ears. John almost choked on his spit when he heard her say this. "I uh..." "There really is only one kind of man in the world," Monica said. "What's that supposed to mean?" John snapped. "Well, c'mon John. Like you don't find me attractive?"  
  
John swallowed hard. "Monica, I find you very, very attractive. But I am a gentleman. If you mean about guys and sex. Believe me, I find that there's much more than sex."  
  
"Such as...?"  
  
"Such as, butterfly kisses and holding hands."  
  
"A true romantic, John Doggett."  
  
John winked at her. "Don't cha know it!" Monica smiled. "It's comforting to know, that I don't have to be afraid of you."  
  
"I think you should," John joked. Monica nudged him lightly as he handed her the sandwich. "Thanks," she said. He smiled. "You're very welcome Monica Reyes." They sat on the couch, John turning the lights on only to dim them. "Very romantic," Monica replied. John nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that." They ate their sandwiches in silence until finally John spoke. "Well, I guess maybe now we'll rest a little easier."  
  
He got up to go back up stairs, but Monica called for him. He turned around. "Yes, agent?" he asked formally. Monica sighed. "Can I sleep with you...you know...just like for tonight, as a final comfort or something?"  
  
The words John had been waiting for all night. He nodded. "Sure, of course." She threw their plates in the trash (How Doggett was indeed grateful for whoever invented paper plates) and they walked upstairs together. John's arm swiftly around her shoulder. They went in his room and Monica closed the door. John was the first to slip into bed, he waited for Monica and, throwing back the covers and she slipped into bed with him. John put the covers on her, making sure she was nice a comfy, and she curled up next to him as he pulled her in closer, holding her into a tight embrace. Monica's breathing slowed down and soon she was asleep. John watched her for a while, until he fell asleep as well. 


	2. The Accident

CHAPTER 2 - The Accident  
  
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 11:34 AM. John woke up having the strangest dream about Monica. He dreamt he brought Monica to his house where they had the longest talks about each other and about their hidden love. He also remembered in full detail about Monica's dream and about being attracted to one another. It seemed so real. John grabbed the back of his neck, rubbing it constantly. It hurt from sleeping in the same position. He looked up and saw Monica and realized the dream he had, wasn't real after all. Monica was lying on a hospital bed, a tube in her mouth and she was on a breathing machine. The door opened from behind and John turned and saw Assistant Director Skinner at the door. "Sir?" he asked confused. "What happened?"  
  
"You don't remember?" Skinner asked, calmly. John shook his head. Skinner sighed deeply as he looked over at Monica. He beckoned for John to follow him outside and John did.  
  
"Monica's in a coma, Agent Doggett."  
  
John's eyes widened at the sudden out burst from AD Skinner. "How?" John asked. Skinner gave a confused look. "You seriously don't remember?" Skinner asked. John shook his head.  
  
"John," Skinner replied, "you and Monica got into a car accident. On your way to Monica's apartment. Of course you were both out cold, but when you awoke and found out, you rushed into her room and you've been there ever since..." Tears built up in John's eyes. "Sir," John asked in a whisper. "Was it my fault? Did I do this?"  
  
"No," Skinner said sharply. "A drunk driver was on the wrong side of the road. His head lights weren't on and he crashed into you head on...If you didn't have your seatbelts on, you'd both be dead right now." John swallowed hard at this. How could something like this happen to them? Even hearing it from AD Skinner, John was still a skeptic, and believed there was something more to it, but there wasn't. "Sir, what are Monica's chances of getting out of this coma?"  
  
"Very slim, agent." "How slim?" John barked. Skinner stared at him for a moment. "She's most likely going to stay in a coma for a very long time. She may come out of it anytime, but the chances are not good. Her mother and family friends are already thinking about pulling the plug."  
  
John wanted to die right then and there. He wished he were in the coma rather than Monica. "They can't do that to her, not yet," John replied. Skinner nodded. "I agree and we're both going to try to do everything in our power to go against what they want, agreed?" Skinner asked. John nodded.  
  
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 11:54 AM. John walked back into Monica's room after AD Skinner left. John wanted to cry so badly, but just like in his dream, he knew if he did, he'd end up hiding his emotions. He sat down on the chair next to Monica's bed and grabbed her hand, rubbing it gently. "Come back to us, Monica. Please, come back to us." John put his head on the bed and listened as Monica breathed through the tube. His eyes closed, his hand still on hers, and slowly he drifted off to sleep. 


	3. John's State Of Mind

Chapter 3 - John's State Of Mind  
  
John Doggett's House. 11:56 AM. Monica turned over and saw John asleep. His arm draped over her, Monica smiled at his breath taking appearance. She loved the way he looked when he was asleep. She wanted him to stay like that forever, but of course he didn't. Something inside of him must have felt her stare, because he opened up his eyes and saw her. "Mmm. Good morning," he said softly, his eyes adjusting from being awake. "Morning," Monica replied. "How did you sleep?" she asked. John yawned for a quick second and then replied, "Pretty well. How about yourself?"  
  
"Good," she said lying up against him. John chuckled lightly. "Want some breakfast?" he asked. "I can make us some if you want," Monica replied. John shook his head. "No, it's okay. I can make some."  
  
"Are you sure?" Monica replied playfully. "Are you questioning my cooking abilities?" John joked. Monica nodded and gave his neck a small kiss. "I am indeed, whatcha gonna do about it John Doggett?" John smiled and placed a small kiss on Monica's forehead. "Nuttin. You can do the cookin'. I don't feel like getting up," he said, lightly pushing Monica. Hinting for her to get out of bed. "I don't wanna cook either," she said, smiling. John smiled back. "Then what's all this 'I can cook' stuff about then?"  
  
"I just wanted to see what you would say."  
  
John scoffed and kissed her head again. "Anything to get a rise outta me, Agent Reyes." Monica laughed and was about to get up, when John pulled her back into bed. "What?" she asked shocked by his gesture. "Where are you going?" he asked playfully. He held her close in his arms. "I'm going to make us breakfast." "Wait, I thought you didn't want to make breakfast," John asked, confused. Monica broke free from his grasp and stood up. She smiled evilly. "I just wanted to see what you would say," she replied. John threw a pillow at her and she ducked running out of the room laughing. John smiled, lying on his backside, his arms behind his head as he inhaled deeply. He chuckled to himself thinking about Monica.  
  
Monica ran downstairs and started up the stove. She'd make the only thing she was good at. Eggs and toast. She heard the shower turn on and figured John was getting cleaned up. It was Sunday, no work, or so she hoped there wouldn't be. Monica ran upstairs quickly and knocked on the bathroom door. "Someone's in here already," John joked. "John?" Monica asked. "Yeah?"  
  
"After we eat, can you take me to my apartment so I can pick up so stuff?"  
  
"Are you going to spend another night over?" John asked with a smile. Monica blushed lightly. "If you want me to," she replied. John shut the water off. "Sure, I want you to."  
  
"Okay then," she said. "Breakfast will be ready soon."  
  
"Can't wait," John called out and the water was running again. Monica went back downstairs. John combed out his wet hair and put on his brown Mavericks shirt and a pair of ragged old jeans and went downstairs where the aroma of sausage, eggs and toast were waffling around in. He walked in to see Monica, still in his shirt, setting out the plates and silverware. She dropped a fork and bent down under the table to get it. Wearing nothing, but her pink panties, Doggett instantly noticed them and couldn't help but laugh. Monica jumped up and saw him. "What are you laughing at?" she asked, bewildered. "Your missin' pants, lil' lady," John remarked. Monica, looked down, embarrassed by his comment, and tried to pull his sweater further down. John noticed her nervous fumbling and walked up to her. "Hey, I was kiddin'," he said. She nodded, not saying anything. "You're gorgeous, you know." He put his finger under her chin and raised her head up, so she'd look at him. "Want to borrow a pair of my pants?" he asked. She shook her head. "I'll get dressed after we eat, I just didn't feel comfortable with wearing my outfit."  
  
"Understood," John chuckled. They sat down across from one another and began to eat. "This looks good, Mon," John replied. He had a plate full of scrambled eggs, four pieces of toast, and three pieces of sausage. Monica looked at it in disgust, sure she made all of that for him to eat, but she never saw John eat so much in one lifetime. On her plate she had a small handful of eggs, two pieces of toast and one sausage. After several quiet minutes, John looked up at Monica and noticed she wasn't eating. "You're not hungry?" he asked. A piece of scrambled egg dangling from his mouth. Monica, put her finger up to the side of her mouth, and hinted for him to wipe it off. He pulled up his napkin and it was instantly gone. "Not really," she said. "But apparently you are." John looked down at his plate. "Well, it's been awhile since I've had a home cooked breakfast. It's really good." Monica smiled at his comments and watched him eat his way into an early coma. John looked up a couple of times as Monica began to eat herself. John was already on his second plate when Monica finished her food. "Are we at an eating contest?" she remarked watching him scarf down more scrambled eggs. "These are delicious!" he exclaimed. Monica already felt disgusted by his carnivorous-eating. She sat up and cleaned her plate while John still ate. "I'm going to go get dressed and then watch TV while you finish up," she said. "Wanna leave now?" John asked, his mouth full. "No, I can wait. No hurry John."  
  
John smiled. "Okay," he said. Monica went upstairs and got changed. A few minutes later, while Doggett was still eating, he watched her sit on the couch across from him and turn on the TV. Monica was about to doze off when she heard John fumbling around in the kitchen she looked up at him as he sat down. He sighed deeply, his hand on his stomach as he closed his eyes. "Are you ready?" she asked. John rubbed his stomach continuously. "Give me a minute, please," he asked softly. Monica smiled, knowing what was wrong, but pretended she didn't understand. "Are you alright?" she asked, a smirk on her face. John shook his head. "I just feel a little sick," he grumbled lightly, as he patted his stomach. "Aww," Monica said. She leaned over and laid next to his shoulder. His eyes were still closed as he groaned lightly. She put her head on his stomach and he opened his eyes and watched as she kissed it lightly. "Am I hurting you?" she asked. "No," he responded. He draped his arm, around her as she rubbed his stomach, every now and then kissing it. "What -- why are you doing this?" he asked, feeling embarrassed. Monica lifted her head up and looked at him. "I'm making you feel better," she said, rubbing his stomach again. "Am I making it worse?" she asked. He shook his head and she smiled lying back on his stomach and gently massaging it. "So then, why are you embarrassed?" Monica asked, once again kissing his stomach. John rubbed her arm, his muscles tense. "I...I just...it's different. No one's ever massaged my stomach. Heh," he responded and Monica laughed lightly. "It's okay John," she said, looking up at him. "You have nothing to be ashamed about. Besides, you'd do it for me, if I wasn't feeling well, right?" she asked. John paused for a moment. "Yeah, I would," he said. John laughed as she massaged his stomach a few more seconds and then she looked up at him, giving out a sigh she didn't realize she had been holding. "Feeling better?" she asked. He nodded. "I am, thank you."  
  
Monica sat up and John leaned in to kiss her...but suddenly he stopped and they just stared at one another. Enjoying the moment.  
  
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 3:54 PM. "Sir? Sir?" a voice called out. John jumped up and grabbed his stomach. Feeling it lightly. He no longer felt full, as he did in his dream, but rather hungry. He looked down at his stomach and then blinked a couple of times when he looked up to find a young lady in her mid 30s smiling at him. "Hey," he said, looking around the room. He saw Monica a few inches away from him, still breathing through the tubes. "What time is it?" he asked. "After 3 PM, sir. If I may say so, she's fine here, maybe you should go home and get some rest?" the nurse asked. John nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah." John staggered out of the hospital, still a little tired. AD Skinner came up from behind him. "Where are you going Agent?" Skinner asked. John turned around. "I'm going home. I don't feel like taking my Lexus, so I'll just take the bus or something," John replied. "Your Lexus is in no shape to drive anyways. There's no, need to ride the bus. You have another car at home right?" John nodded. He had a Beige Mercedes from 1999 parked in his garage. "I'll give you a lift then," Skinner replied. "Thank you, Sir." "You've been through a lot, Agent," Skinner said, "I'm glad I could help out as much as I can." Skinner and Doggett walked to Skinner's his blue SUV and Doggett sat upfront with Skinner as they drove off. "Has Scully been by?" John asked. "She's visited a few times. Each time you were asleep," Skinner said. "Yeah, I've been falling asleep a lot easier, it seems."  
  
"That's normal," Skinner said. "Have you talked to Agent Reyes' Mother yet?" John said. Skinner shook his head. His eyes glued to the road. "No, not yet. She'll be here in a couple of days. But as a request from me, and fellow FBI agents such as yourself," Skinner replied, "she can't really do anything...yet." John nodded, looking out the window. "It'll be okay, John. Monica is strong. Somehow she'll get through this. I know she will." "I think so too, Sir." Ten minutes later they arrived at John's house. "Thank you again, Sir," John told him. Skinner smiled. "Don't mention it. See you later, John." John got out of the SUV and watched Skinner leave. He unlocked his front door and walked inside his home. It felt so empty. He closed the door behind him and flopped down on the couch. He sighed deeply, thinking about Monica. Then he thought about something he didn't notice earlier. The dreams he had been having. They were continuing on their own. He never had a dream that continued on through another dream. "Weird," he mumbled to himself. He walked upstairs to take a shower and afterwards John went downstairs to make a quick sandwich. He wanted to hurry up and eat, so he could go to sleep and rush back to the hospital in the morning to see how Monica was. John watched a little bit of TV, while he quietly ate his sandwich. He needed something to do to keep his mind off of her. Shortly after he dozed off to sleep. 


	4. The Wolf Within

CHAPTER 4 - The Wolf Within.  
  
John Doggett's House. 1:15 PM. John and Monica stared at each other for a second, wanting so much to kiss, but were both afraid to. Finally, when neither of them pulled off the kiss, Monica broke the silence. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, placing her hand back on his stomach. John grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Yes, very much so, thank you," he said kindly. She nodded. "Ready to go to your apartment?" John asked. Again Monica nodded again. "Okay, let's go," he said, helping her up. They walked out of his house and got in his Lexus. Suddenly John got this feeling over him. Monica instantly noticed. "What's wrong?" she asked him. John shook the feeling and looked up at her. "Skinner said this car wasn't in any shape to drive, but it's here...it looks fine."  
  
"Skinner?" Monica asked. "When did he say that John?"  
  
John thought for a moment. "I don't remember...Maybe I'm more tired than I let off."  
  
"Maybe it was my cooking," Monica groaned. "Never," John smiled, starting up the car. Monica smiled at him as they left for her apartment. On their way there, John thought about what he had said to Monica. (Skinner said the car was in no shape to drive) Why would he say that? Then suddenly images of a hospital came to his mind. Monica didn't notice the worried look on his face, but he couldn't seem to shake the images of the hospital out of his mind, then an image of Monica in the hospital almost made him swerve off the road. "John, what's the matter?" Monica asked with concern. Sweat was dripping off of his brow. "I..." John stopped what he was saying and just looked at her. "I don't know what's wrong with me."  
  
"Maybe it was something you ate after all." John shook his head. "No, I don't think so." They remained silent after that. Monica kept her eyes on the road, as did John, who was still picturing Monica in the hospital. Being on a breathing machine and having tubes in her mouth. It was a horrible sight. He sighed deeply, catching Monica's attention. She looked over at him, but didn't say anything. She did want to know what was on his mind, but she kept quiet. Finally a glimpse of Monica's apartment building showed through trees and the brightness of the sun. John and Monica entered the building. They're arms around one another's waist, and this caught the attention of many people. Mostly people that lived near Monica's apartment room. They never saw her go in and out with a guy. Both John and Monica felt their stares, but tried to brush it off. However, it didn't quite seem to work, but eventually they made it up to her apartment room. John instantly flopped down on a small chair that was in the corner of the room. Monica went into her bedroom and began to pack a few clothes. John looked around the room. "Have any animals or pets that you need to feed or take care of?" John asked. Monica peered out from the room. "What?" she asked confused. "Pets," he replied. Monica shook her head. "I used to have goldfish, but I'm not one to keep track of taking care of animals...or plants for that matter. Anything living really." John laughed as Monica disappeared inside the room yet again. He picked at the chair's arms, peeling away the fabric that was already coming off while he waited for Monica. He stood up and walked around the small apartment room, checking her refrigerator, looking at old pictures and looking through her newspapers. He was a regular FBI agent. Monica came out with a couple of bags filled with various items and clothes. John looked shocked. "All that for one night?" he joked. "Well, I thought maybe I could spend a night...or two or three at your house." John smiled an ear-to-ear grin. "Sounds good to me."  
  
He walked up to her and pulled her in for a tight embrace. He inhaled her scent as they hugged for several minutes. Monica closed her eyes when she thought of a plan. She pulled away from John and stared into his eyes. "How about a romantic dinner tonight? After we leave here maybe we could go out and buy some groceries and I'll make us a nice dinner."  
  
John's eyes lit up. "Really?"  
  
"Well yeah. I mean if we want to do this right, this is definitely a start."  
  
John laughed. "I thought staying over was a start?"  
  
Monica moaned. "John, I'm serious."  
  
"I know, Mon and I think it's a great idea. This romantic dinner of yours." Monica smiled and gave John a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you." Monica grabbed his and threw it around her waist and kissed him tenderly on the lips. She then placed her head down on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I never want this moment to end," she said. John sighed as he put his head down on hers. "I know what you mean," he said. "I tell ya what, after dinner, we can slip into bed early and cuddle for a bit, How's that?" John asked. Monica nodded. "I'd love that." John pulled away first and grabbed Monica's hand. "Okay. Let's get outta here," he said. Monica grabbed her things, only for John to take them from her and they left. As they left they were followed by more stares. "They must think I'm moving out," Monica whispered to herself. John overheard. "Yeah, it's for the best though," he joked. Monica smiled, while putting her arm through his. Her head leaned against his shoulder as they got into his Lexus. They stopped at a small grocery store and Monica and John entered arm to arm. Monica bought a small honey baked ham and some frozen vegetables, a bottle of red wine and two tall white candles, while John was off, looking to purchase some beer. They met up in one of the check out stands. John was behind Monica. "So, do you come here often?" he questioned her playfully. She looked over her shoulder and saw his grin. He tried to hide it, but Monica saw right through him. "Sometimes. You?" she asked. "All the time," he replied. "And what do you do here?" she asked. "Shop...you?" he asked. Monica smiled. "Look for hot guys to cuddle with after romantic dinners."  
  
"Oh that sounds interesting. Have you found any hot guys to do this with tonight?"  
  
"I've asked a couple of guys to join me tonight...why are you interested?" John leaned forward and put his head on Monica's shoulder, his head tilted her way as he stared at the side of her face. A few glances were made their way as they waited in line. "I may be interested," he smiled. Monica stepped back and kissed John, who had leaned down low enough for her to easily kiss his cheek. "Well, I'll never," he blushed. She put her hand on his cheek and gently rubbed his face. They were next in line. John paid for their groceries and then they walked out. As they walked out, Monica looked inside one of the bags. "You bought a six pack of beer?"  
  
"I was runnin' low," he smiled. Monica scoffed playfully. Monica and John walked back to his Lexus and headed back to his home. On their way, passing Monica's apartment, there was a roadblock. It looked as if there had been an accident. "I wonder when that happened," Monica said. John looked over at a tree that had been severely trashed from whatever happened. He also saw two cops investigating the incident. This scene gave him an eerie feeling. He couldn't shake it. "John?" Monica asked, watching John. He was slowing down as he watched the two FBI Agents taking notes. Two familiar faces; Agent Scully and Agent Mulder. He turned to Monica. "Everything okay?" she asked. He nodded. "Yeah, just fine."  
  
They finally arrived back at John's. Monica immediately put away the groceries as John brought them in. "It's getting hot out," he said bringing in the last two bags. He walked over to the door and looked outside. Quiet. No one was outside. Not even a child or a dog. It seemed surreal. He shut the door and locked it, walking into the kitchen. "When do you want to make dinner?" John asked. "I'll go freshen up first and then start."  
  
John nodded. "Okay, I'll help prepare I guess," he replied. "Okay, thanks sweetie," Monica said. She ran upstairs, picking up the bags she brought with her, and disappeared. John opened up the bag of vegetables and turned on the stove. Meanwhile, upstairs Monica turned on the showed and got in. She pulled out her strawberry shampoo. One of her favorite kinds and washed her hair. When she was finished, she combed out her hair and put on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. After a few more minutes, she went downstairs where John was leaning against the counter, staring at the stove. She walked in and John looked up. He whistled. "Sexy," he growled. Monica smiled sheepishly. "Please, John. I just wanted to slip into something comfortable." John nodded. "Mon, you'd look sexy no matter what you wear."  
  
"You're just a big tease, John Doggett," she replied quietly, still feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole ordeal. "Nonsense. John Doggett speaks nothing but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." Monica rolled her eyes, walking up closer to him. Her arms crossed. "You're nothing, but a big bad wolf in disguise Agent Doggett."  
  
Doggett smiled evilly. "Aaaaaawwwwwwooo," he howled as he grabbed at Monica. "C'mere my pretty, so that I may eat you up."  
  
Monica screamed playfully as John chased her around in the kitchen, making howling sounds and throwing his hands out, pretending to have claws. Finally he caught her and gave her a face full of butterfly kisses. "Mmm. C'mere," he said, pulling her in for a hug. Monica sighed, holding him tightly. "You said," Monica started, and John pulled away to look at her, "that you wanted to eat me up." John smiled playfully, nodding. "Well then, if you do that, then who would be here to rub your stomach when you weren't feeling good?" she asked. Her hand gently placed on his stomach as he pondered the question. "That's a tough one," he remarked, kissing her forehead. She giggled lightly as they hugged. "I better start dinner," Monica said in a whisper. "Now, I wish this moment would never end," John replied. Monica nodded and they broke free. "Go in the living room, while I prepare dinner."  
  
John nodded. "I'll go get changed first," he said. "My pants already feel tight, thanks to your home cooked meal. I think you're just trying to fatten me up," he said playfully. Monica smiled as he walked over to the archway. "Don't you know it," Monica replied as he gave her one last smile before he headed upstairs.  
  
Doggett put on another pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that was one size to big for him. He figured if Monica didn't care what she was wearing, he might as well feel the same way. He sat on the bed for a moment, thinking about the Lexus and then the accident that they came across while heading back to his home. He didn't understand any of it. He sighed. "C'mon John. Don't try to make this into an X-File. You have a beautiful young woman downstairs that's cooking dinner for you."  
  
John put his hand on his stomach, thinking of earlier, when Monica was there for him when he wasn't feeling good. She was so sweet and gentle. How he loved her in every way. He got up and walked downstairs where the aroma of the honey baked ham wafted around. "Smells good already," he said, pacing downstairs. He looked in then kitchen and leaned back against the arch, watching Monica poor the vegetables into a pan on the stove. "Want me to get the wine?" he asked. Monica looked up startled. "Sure," she smiled. He pulled the red wine out of the fridge and popped it open. "Almost done," she said softly, sitting down near the table. John sat next to her, the wine on the counter. "Wow, we're dressed up for the occasion," he joked. "Think we should change?" she asked. He shook his head. "Why? We're not at some fancy restaurant. We can actually eat comfortably."  
  
Monica nodded, getting up and setting the two white candles down on the table. John gave her a lighter and she lit both candles. "Very romantic," John grinned. Monica gave a faint smile. A few minutes later, when the vegetables and ham were done, Monica got up and made two plates. She gave John his plate and sat down with hers. "Looks great, Mon. Thank you."  
  
Monica blushed. "You're welcome John." John didn't eat as much as he did that morning, but he ate enough, as well as Monica. He sat back as Monica got up to wash the plates. John got up and gave her a quick hug from behind. "I'll do the dishes, Mon."  
  
"It's okay, John. I can do them."  
  
"No, I have a policy here. If someone can make such a great dinner, then they surely cannot do the dishes. That's a sin there." Monica giggled. "You're a tease."  
  
"I thought I was the big bad wolf?" he asked playfully. Monica gave him a kiss on the cheek. "That too."  
  
Monica still insisted on helping with the dishes. So with both of them together, they finished washing them all. "Tomorrow night, paper plates," John said, blowing out the candles. "Aaaaaaaawwwwwwwwoooooo," he howled. Monica scoffed. "Not the wolf thing again."  
  
"If I was ya, I'd run upstairs, before I come after you."  
  
Monica, her arms crossed, just watched John as he brought out his hands and curled his fingers. "Awwwwwooo," he howled once again. Monica giggled, and then ran upstairs, John followed. 


	5. Monica's Childhood Memory

Note To Readers: I added a stint about a childhood memory of Monica's to add to the sexual parts of the story (No, they don't have sex). I just made her story up, in case anyone is wondering or if anyone is outraged like, 'how dare you add that, it never happened!' I just wanted to make it blend in with the story.*Ahem* Now back to the story itself.  
  
Chapter 5 - Monica's Childhood Memory  
  
John Doggett's House. 10:34 PM. John awoke to the TV being cut off by static. The television was out. He shut it off and decided to head up to bed. He was making his way up when he suddenly held onto the banner of the stairway. ("You're nothing, but a big bad wolf in disguise Agent Doggett.") He paused for a second as images from his dream entered his mind. ("Aaaaaaaawwwwwwwwoooooo")  
  
John sat down on the third step, as more images flashed in his mind from his dream. ("C'mere my pretty, so that I may eat you up." "You said that you wanted to eat me up. Well then, if you do that, then who would be here to rub your stomach when you weren't feeling good?") John smiled at this. His dream was continuing on without any interruption, except for when he woke up. Weird, he thought. He shook his head, fascinated by such a dream. He got up to his feet and walked into his bedroom and closed the door. He threw his tie down and unbuttoned his shirt, changing into his pajamas. He sat down on the bed and decided to go back to sleep and see if he could finish the dream before he saw Monica in the morning.  
  
John Doggett's House. 10:55 PM. John walked into his bedroom where Monica laid on his bed. She growled. "Wanna play?" she asked sexually. Her statement shocked John, but yet he was also aroused. "I thought you just wanted to cuddle," he asked seriously. Monica smiled. "That too...but maybe we could do something else tonight."  
  
"Well I thought you wanted to take things slow, Mon."  
  
Monica scoffed. "I do...but I thought you were attracted to me...?"  
  
John walked up to her and sat down next to her. "Monica, I am very attracted to you." He brushed back a lock of her brown hair that had fallen into her face. His blue eyes showing so much care and love. "But I don't want to do something that will make you feel uncomfortable. We can always do this later on when we both feel we should."  
  
Tears slowly crept up in Monica's eyes. She didn't realize it until then, but she was about to cry. "I don't understand..." she said. John grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "What don't you understand?" he asked subtly. "I want to take things slow, but I still feel as if I need to do this for you..."  
  
John laughed. "Don't laugh, John," she replied. John instantly stopped. "Oh Mon. You don't need to do anything for me...except love me, maybe. I don't expect anything more or anything less." Monica stood up. "I may be a man, Mon. But I do have more than sexual desires..."  
  
"Then take me...take me here...tonight..."  
  
John sighed, standing up. "Mon, I know this isn't what you want," he replied, putting his hand on her shoulder, but she brushed it off. "Damnet, Mon, listen to me. Let's just cuddle. That's good enough isn't it?" She spun around, tears escaping her eyes. "It isn't. If we can't make love, then how can we ever see ourselves in the future? In a relationship?"  
  
"You want to have sex? Right now? Would that make you feel better, Mon?" John barked this only made Monica cry louder. John pulled off his shirt, and grabbed at Monica and kissed her. His tongue sweeping over her lips after the kiss. He held her arms with his hands. "Then let's have sex." Monica stared into his eyes. He sighed deeply; looking into her water filled eyes and jumped into the bed. He unzipped his pants and pulled them off. Waiting for her. "C'mon, Mon. Right now. You and I."  
  
"You make it sound like a game," Monica said in a soft voice, that was barely audible, but John heard her. "Well it is, isn't it?" he asked. "You don't show any sexual desire until tonight and now you don't want to make love?"  
  
"Make love? Is that what you call it? Before it was just sex...is that what you would have called it after as well?"  
  
John sighed even deeper this time, and slammed his fist against his pillow, startling Monica. "Goddamn it Monica. Everything was fine about five minutes ago - now you've just suddenly snapped. What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled. "I don't know," she cried. "I don't know." John watched her as she held herself, crying even louder now. He rushed up to her and put his arms around her. "Shhh.Mon, it's okay. It's okay."  
  
For a second she believed him, but then she pushed him away. "No, this isn't right," she said. "What? What isn't right?"  
  
"Just stay away from me," Monica yelled out. She ran downstairs, tripping on the last step. She fell face first on the floor, her knee cut open badly. "Monica!" John called out. He ran down the steps and jumped over her, checking her leg. "Oh shit, Mon," he said, getting up and grabbing some bandages and an ointment. He washed off her leg as she cried incoherently and fixed her kneecap. Before either one could say anything, Monica wrapped her arms around John. "Monica," he said, her arms still around his neck. "There's something you're not telling me," he whispered.  
  
Monica pulled away. She began to quiet down. "I...I was raped."  
  
John's eyes widened as he got up and handed her a Kleenex and sat back down next to her as she cried more softly. "You were what?"  
  
Monica looked up at John, her eyes watery. "I was raped."  
  
"When?"  
  
"A long time ago," she replied. "I was either 14 or 15 when it happened. My father was an abusive drunk. You remember the year that he went to prison for raping all those women in Idaho. He raped me as well...but I never told anybody." John sat there, quiet for several minutes, as Monica cried into her Kleenex. "I've only told you. I never even...I never even told my Mother."  
  
She looked up at him. "I don't know why I did that John. I just thought back when he said, that men only want one thing from women. I thought if I gave you that, I'd be yours..."  
  
She cried again and John hated to see her cry. "C'mere," he said, pulling her in for a hug. She laid back against him and cried into his bare chest, holding onto his arms as he rocked her back and forth. "Your father was wrong, Mon," John said. Monica's cries subsided. "Not all men want just one thing from women, but there are a lot that do. You never made love to me, and I hope we can someday, but until then I'm already yours...no matter what."  
  
Monica cried louder again. "But what...if you're just saying that? What if ten years from now...you'll think different?"  
  
"I would never think that. Don't be afraid, Monica. Don't be afraid of what we have."  
  
She looked up at him as he looked straight ahead. "What do we have?" she asked, he looked down at her. "Hidden Love. True love. We may not see it clearly now, but we're getting there." "So, I shouldn't feel pressured...to...you know?"  
  
John chuckled. "No. Never. I know you may not believe it, but like I've said before, I may be a man, but I look for other things, not just that..." Monica smiled, burying her face in the warmth of his chest. "Thank you, John." "C'mon, let's go upstairs," he said, helping her up. "You definitely need some clothes on," Monica laughed. "Yeah, yeah."  
  
Monica started to head upstairs, but John pulled her back and lifted her up, carrying her up the stairs as she laughed and kicked. Telling him to put her down. "Awwwwwwwwooooooo," he growled. Monica giggled.  
  
John changed put on a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt and Monica remained in her clothes. She combed out her hair and they both brushed their teeth and went to bed. John laid up against the wall and he pulled Monica in for a tight embrace. She leaned back and kissed his neck as he gently brushed back her silky brown hair. "We already make a great couple," he said. "Yeah, we already live like we're married," Monica joked. "Could be a good thing."  
  
"I guess so," Monica smiled. She turned around so she'd face John. "Hi," she said. "Hey." They both looked into one another's eyes and then tenderly kissed. "I love you John," Monica whispered. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. John, still playing with her hair, smiled shyly. "I love you too, Mon."  
  
The next day Monica woke up to find John gone. She looked in the bathroom, but he wasn't there. She slowly made her way downstairs and saw him making breakfast. "Your turn today, I see," she remarked, watching him make pancakes. "Sure is," he said. His New York accent, never seemed to fade. Monica came up from behind him and put her hands around his waist. "Pancakes, one of my specialties."  
  
"Hmmm. Sounds good."  
  
John smiled, his hands touching hers. "Get ready. I'm almost done," he said. "Okay," she said, kissing his back and walking off. John watched her leave and then flipped the pancakes over.  
  
Monica went upstairs and took a hot shower to wake her up. She put on a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt and combed her hair. She rushed downstairs, as John was looking at the calendar. "Mon," he asked, looking at her, as she walked over by the table and sat down. "What John?" she asked, still yawning. "What day is it?"  
  
"Sunday, why?"  
  
John turned around. "I thought yesterday was Sunday."  
  
Monica shook her head. "No, yesterday was Saturday." John looked back at the calendar. He could have sworn yesterday was Sunday. "Pancakes ready?" Monica asked. John nodded, still looking at the calendar. He turned away from it and put two pancakes on a paper plate and handed it to her along with the syrup. "Thank you," she said. John didn't say anything; he looked back at the calendar. "What's up with you?" Monica asked, taking a bite of her breakfast. Silence. John was still staring at the calendar. "Hey? Earth to John!" John turned around. "What? Oh how are the pancakes?"  
  
"Great. Would you like to join me?"  
  
"Oh of course. Sorry," he said sitting down. He put three pancakes on a paper plate and ate slowly. "Lost your appetite?" Monica joked. He looked up. "Heh. I guess I'm just not feeling well."  
  
"Are you getting sick?" Monica asked. John shook his head. "I don't think so." "So," she said, changing the subject, "what do you want to do today?" she asked. "Well, maybe we could go out or something."  
  
"Sounds fun. What should we do?" John thought for a moment. "How about we go to the movies?"  
  
"The movies?" Monica questioned. "Oh yeah, maybe see a comedy or horror flick."  
  
Monica nodded. "Okay, great." "We'll leave after breakfast."  
  
"Okay," she said. John smiled and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence, John's mind still on the calendar.  
  
"Monica?" John asked, waiting for her to come downstairs. "I'm coming," she said. She ran downstairs and almost tripped again, but John caught her in the nick of time. "Whoa, close one..." she said. "Yeah, unlike last time," he said, pointing to her knee. "Yeah," she blushed.  
  
John and Monica walked a few blocks away from his house to a local theater. They bought two tickets for some horror movie called, "Willard". John bought medium popcorn and two small drinks and they went inside the theater room and watched the previews. Monica leaned against John and he put his arm around her. Two hours later when the movie was over they left. "How'd you like it?" Monica asked quietly, sipping the rest of her soda. "Okay, I guess. Not really scary."  
  
"Good acting though," Monica grinned. John paused. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. His the curves of his lips turned into a small smile."  
  
"Nothing," Monica laughed as they walked out. "You liked that Willard character?"  
  
"Well, you gotta admit, he was rather dashing."  
  
"Well, so was that Katherine woman," John remarked. Monica was speechless. "John Doggett, well I'll be."  
  
"You started it," he said with a smile. "True. Okay, let's agree that they are very talented actors, and nothing more. Agreed?"  
  
"Agreed..." John replied. He put his arm around her waist. "You were jealous," he remarked. She nudged him playfully. "So were you." "So, what do you want to do now?" he asked her. Monica thought for a moment. "Let's go home and watch TV and just relax."  
  
John kissed Monica's forehead. "Okay, let's go."  
  
John unlocked the front door and Monica was the first to walk in. "Want to take a nap later on?" Monica asked. John nodded, closing and locking the door behind him. "Sure, you're just full of plans today, eh?" John asked walking up from behind Monica. He grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. A small smile appearing around the corners of his mouth. "Just a little tired, I guess," she said faintly. John stopped smiling. "You okay?" he asked, turning her around. She nodded. "I guess I just want to cuddle some more too."  
  
"No argument there," he said, holding her in a tight embrace. Monica inhaled his scent. "Hmm, this is nice," she sighed. "No work, nothing to do, but lay around and snuggle."  
  
John nodded. They both walked to the couch and Monica rested her head on John's lap as he brushed back her hair. 


	6. John Doggett Takes Charge

Chapter 6 - John Doggett Takes Charge  
  
John Doggett's House. 7:15 AM. John's eyes flashed open. ("I guess I just want to cuddle some more.") He sat up, sweat forming on his forehead. ("No work, nothing to do, but lay around and snuggle.") His dreams made less and less sense, but somehow it seemed as if he could control them in a way. There was a pattern and he needed to find out. John hurried up and got dressed and left in his Beige Mercedes and took off to George Washington Hospital. He had to see Monica. Maybe more about his dream would come to him, until then he'd try to figure it out somehow.  
  
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 7:29 AM. John's brown trench coat waved back and forth as he made his way inside the hospital. To his surprise outside Monica's hospital room door stood a stranger talking to Skinner. When Doggett reached a closer angle, he recognized the stranger. Mrs. Reyes. "How can you just end her life? She can survive this..." Skinner barked. Doggett walked up next to him. "What's going on?" he asked. Skinner turned towards him. "Monica's Mother wants to go ahead and pull the plug."  
  
"What?" John asked looking at her. "Why? Why would you want to do that? The chances may be slim, but she's your daughter for God's sake. Try to at least give a damn about her."  
  
Monica's mother came up to John and slapped him. John's head tilted slightly to the left. Skinner stared at the stand off between mother and boyfriend/partner. John grabbed the side of his face, as he looked into the eyes of Mrs. Reyes. "You don't know what it's like, Agent Doggett. To see your daughter in a coma and the doctor's keep telling you, it's for the best. I'll wait a few more days, but I don't want to see her suffer like this any longer." Mrs. Reyes began to walk off; John instantly caught her off guard. "I may not know what it's like," he said, as she turned around to face him, "to see my child in a coma. I did however; have to investigate a case relating to my late son's death. A death that was made in vain. He was raped and killed, left for anyone to find...Monica was there with me, when I buried Luke's ashes out at sea. And now..." Small tears built up inside of John as he tried his best to hide them, "I'm here for her, as she was for me. I'm never going to leave her side. She's on that machine trying to live. Shes breathing. She's still alive. You take that from her and you'll regret it for the rest of your damn life --"  
  
Mrs. Reyes walked off and John felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. He turned his head to see AD Skinner's hand on him. "Well done, agent," he said. John nodded and AD Skinner let him go. John walked into Monica's room. She was now off the breathing machine and the tubes were gone. She looked so peaceful. Maybe she was enjoying her time off, John laughed to himself, but he knew this was no laughing matter. He sat down on a chair across from her and stared out the window. He thought back to the dreams. The dreams relating to Monica. They seemed so real. So vivid. As if Monica were really in them. What made it worse, is that these dreams they were getting closer. They were getting into the next level of a relationship John feared to cross. He wished it was real, so he could try to cross into that level.with Monica by his side. John suddenly gazed up at Monica. His dreams relating to her always seem to continue when he fell back asleep? How? He wondered. John jumped up from his seat and raced outside. Skinner immediately seen him and stopped him. "Agent, what is it?"  
  
"We need to go on your comp. Hook up and log on and talk to the Lone Gunmen."  
  
"The Lone Gunmen?" questioned Skinner, "why?" "We just do, sir." 


	7. From Past To Present

Chapter 7 - From Past To Present  
  
John Doggett's House. 1:45 AM. Monica yawned lightly; John still messing with her hair closed his eyes lightly. They were both starting to fall asleep. "John?" Monica asked in a whisper. John answered quietly. A small murmur that sounded like, "yes?"  
  
Monica chuckled. Their eyes still closed. "I think I'm too tired to get up." John laughed at this. "Tell ya the truth, I think I am too." "Remember when I first met you?" Monica asked, "and you were so nervous. It was on the case about your son, I guess you were more upset than anything though." John nodded. "I was upset, but I admit I was nervous to meet you."  
  
"Why?" Monica asked. "Well aside from the fact that we were trying to find out what happened to my son, I saw across from me this beautiful, dark haired girl, who had such a radiant smile. I thought, 'there is someone I'd like to get to know' knowing the kind of case we were on, I instantly shut it out, but the feelings were still there, often coming out." Monica smiled. "Maybe it was fate..." she told him. John opened up his eyes and looked down at her. "What do you mean?"  
  
Monica sat up and John smiled, putting his hand on her cheek, gently massaging it. "Maybe Luke brought us together." John turned away. Luke? How could she bring his son into this? He stood up, now wide awake, his back facing her.  
  
"John," Monica sighed. "I know you don't believe in the paranormal. Ghosts or spirits or even fate, but I do." John looked over at her. Tears welding up inside of him. "Luke doesn't have that kind of power." "He does John. He does. I truly think he brought us together. We helped him and now he's helping us. He has been for so long. Oh John, don't you see that? Don't you feel it?"  
  
John sat up, the tears gently falling from the side of his eyes as he kept his gaze away from her, so she wouldn't see him, but she knew better than that. She knew he was crying.  
  
Monica sat up from the couch and walked up to him. Her hand now on his shoulder, John was afraid to even move, to even look at her, to even see her eyes. Eyes that made every man weak, eyes that especially made John Doggett weak. He sniffled lightly, and Monica, gently and slowly, put her arms around his waist, pulling him in for a hug, which wasn't an easy task, for unlike when John did it, Monica had an effort. She wasn't as strong as John. "John?" she asked. Silence.  
  
"John, tell me that you feel it. You have to. You have to feel a stronger force. Something that's behind all of this."  
  
John spun around, his eyes filled with sadness, but also at the same time anger. "Feel what Mon? Am I supposed to be a believer now? Am I supposed to go along with The X-Files and say that every case is true."  
  
Monica took two steps back away from him. "Do you even hear yourself? You don't even seem to be listening to me, damnet John." John's eyes widened. "I'm saying that I don't know what this is. I feel and think however, that this could be perhaps related to your son, Luke."  
  
"You're just trying to bring him into this nonsense."  
  
"Nonsense?" Monica exclaimed, raising her voice. John backed away a couple of steps. "Is that what this is now? Nonsense? Perhaps this forced love is nonsense?"  
  
"FORCED?" John's hands curled into fists. "I have tried, Mon. God knows I have tried, but all you do is try to make a goddamn X-Files case out of all this. That's all you do. That's all you're good at!"  
  
Monica froze in her spot. She couldn't believe that John had said that, especially not to her. Not directed towards her. "Apparently this love is forced after all," she said coldly. John just stared at her. "I have tried too John.and if this is as good as it gets, then I don't want to stay to see how it ends."  
  
She headed upstairs. "Where are you going?" John called out. "I'm going to get my stuff and then I'm going back to my apartment."  
  
"Monica, wait!" But Monica didn't stay to listen, she ran upstairs and disappeared out of sight, and John found himself to be alone.again. He let out a frustrated sigh.  
  
Like John, Monica couldn't hold in the tears. Perhaps it was due to the emotional fact that John had just broke her heart, or perhaps it was because everything general in her life seemed to be emotional. Like she was on an emotional roller coaster ride and every bump and every downslide tore a piece of her apart, making her more vulnerable to everything around her, including John. Especially John. She sat on the bed and cried away softly, knowing John was behind the closed door listening to her and he was indeed. He was afraid to walk in on her and make things worse, like he had just done. Instead, he just stood there and listened to her quiet sobs, himself, still crying. He constantly wiped away the tears, hoping to rid of them forever, but he couldn't. He couldn't wipe them away, because then they would come back, over and over and each tear made John feel less of a man than he already was. He didn't know whether or not to walk in and talk to her or to walk back downstairs and let her leave. He didn't want her to leave, but he didn't want her to be by herself either. He listened to his gut feeling, and slowly pushed back the door and found Monica holding onto a pillow, crying into it. She didn't see John, nor did she see him when he walked in. He stood there for a moment, watching her. She seemed so sad. He knew he had hurt her, and before, he promised himself, he would never do that and here he had. He hated himself. But never Monica, although she probably thought he did. "Want to talk?' he asked. Monica shook her head, rocking herself back and forth. "Go away and give me some time alone so I can get ready to leave."  
  
"Please, Monica," John asked walking over to her a few steps. "Please, don't leave." He walked forward a couple more times, paused for a second and then said, "I know you don't want to leave." She looked up at him, both their eyes filled with tears. "I.I was just trying to make you feel better. I just wanted to tell you what I thought. I feel Luke around you all the time.I didn't know how much it would cost us by even saying his name."  
  
John smiled weakly and sat down next to her, she moved back a little. Still afraid of him, he saw. "Monica, Luke brings out so much emotions in me, also rage for what happened. I hear his name and I hate myself, for losing such a wonderful son. I blame myself for his death. I'm sorry for what happened. I'm sorry for taking out my frustrations on you. I do believe you in a sense about Luke bringing us together-"  
  
He cupped his hands on Monica's face and lifted up her head, so she'd face him. "I also think, he would have loved to have known you in his life."  
  
Before John could finish Monica threw her arms around him and cried incoherently in his chest, repeating over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." John rocked her back and forth as she held onto him even tighter. Her tears uncontrollable. John tried to comfort her. "It's okay, Mon. Shh."  
  
"Do you think he would have really liked me?" she sobbed, quietly. John laughed. "Of course. I think what you're saying is true. I don't believe in much Monica, especially whatever pertains or consists of the paranormal, but I do believe what you're saying is true. I think Luke is bringing us together. There have been so many signs and I thank God for both him and you." Monica was still crying, and there was a moment of silence. He knew she was trying to understand what he was saying. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, I apologize again. You didn't do anything wrong. Believe me, it was all my doing. I love you.Monica. With all my heart, I love you."  
  
Monica looked up at John and looked into his eyes. His eyes were watery, and about to burst full of tears, but he held them in, for Monica and for Luke. "I love you too, John." They kissed passionately. Both holding one another tight in each other's arms. John couldn't take it any longer; he began to cry, as did Monica. They kissed one more time and looked up at each other. John put his forehead against Monica's as they stared at one another, both smiling, tears in their eyes. "Don't," Monica said, as John wiped his eyes, "don't blame yourself for Luke's death. It wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault. If anything, I think you made the perfect father, you just never realized it..."  
  
John smiled weakly, Monica's words going over in his mind. "You think so?" he asked stupidly, wishing he hadn't made Luke's death such a big deal. Monica nodded. This time it was Monica who put her hand on his cheek. "John, Luke will always be a big part of your life. I'm always here if you want to take about him. I will always listen."  
  
John grabbed Monica and held her in a tight embrace. "I love you," John repeated again. Monica smiled. "I love you."  
  
John fell back on the bed as Monica rested her head on his chest. Tears still lightly streaming down her face. John played with her hair as she began to fall asleep. John followed right behind. 


	8. Frohike To The Rescue

Chapter 8 - Frohike To The Rescue.  
  
FBI HEADQUARTERS. 8:35 AM. Skinner gently shook John from his dreary dreamland. John looked up. They were at FBI quarters. John got out of the SUV and he and AD Skinner walked to Skinner's office. John immediately was the first to walk in. He turned on Skinner's comp. Skinner looked sideways at John. "Want to tell me, what this is about?" he asked impatiently. John glanced over and him and then at Skinner's computer, typing in something which put him online instantly. He turned back over and saw a confused AD Skinner. "I need to ask The Lone Gun Men something about dreams."  
  
"Dreams?" Skinner said. John nodded. "Dreams that may be connected with Monica."  
  
Skinner stepped back as John moved in closer to his computer, trying to connect to The Lone Gun Men's computer. Their web cam was on, but only Frohike was on. His back was facing the web cam, while he ate a sandwich, typing on another laptop. "Hello Melvin," John said. Frohike turned around startled at first. Then he relaxed when he saw John. "Hello Agent Doggett."  
  
"Where are the others?" he immediately asked Frohike. Frohike shrugged his shoulders "Langly and Byers are out right now. What do you need?" Frohike asked impatiently. John exhaled deeply. "I need to know something about a certain type of dream.if that's even possible."  
  
"Sure. Tell me about this dream."  
  
AD Skinner watched John closely as he nervously tried to think of what to say. Something that wouldn't sound too out of this world, but in the world of The X-Files, that seemed impossible.  
  
"Well, say someone was in a coma." Skinner suddenly sighed deeply once he heard the word coma. He knew where this was going, but let John continue. "And say someone who was close to this person in the coma, had dreams about them.continuing dreams, that is," John said sternly. Frohike thought for a moment. "Continuing dreams?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, like, something happens and then they wake up. Yet, when they go back to sleep, the dream continues, and being awake, was like a break. Their dream was paused, but when they were asleep, their dream was on play and continued where it last left off at." Frohike stared blankly at John, as did Skinner. Then he said, "I've heard of this."  
  
"You have?" Both John and Skinner asked. Frohike nodded. "Yes. A Dream Coma - It was said back in the early 1900s that whenever someone was trapped inside a coma, the person they were last with or someone they were really close with, would have dreams about them. The only thing is, the dreams were the coma victim's reality."  
  
"So, they thought the dreams were real?"  
  
"Exactly. It followed out their everyday life as if they are awake with the last person they saw or loved. The person experiencing this dream about the coma victim usually doesn't know it's really them in their dreams, unless they can put two and two together, if you catch my drift."  
  
John paused for a moment. "Is this a way a coma victim can somehow make contact? Is there any reason for dreams such as this? How can they end?"  
  
"Well if they end, the person is back from the coma state. Usually dreams like these occur, because it's a way out. It's as if they're calling out to the person in their dreams to help them, only they don't really know it. Their subconscious mind does, however." "How can the person having these dreams help?"  
  
"That I don't know of. It's rare for dreams like these to happen. I've never known a person to have one. I've only heard of the myth. Even so I never believed it and I believe in a lot of paranormal related things -- there is one way to know if it's a coma victim making contact." "How's that?" John asked. "The continuing dream may go on for days in dreamland, but it'll still be the same say. The day it happened."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Sure," Frohike grumbled and he turned his back to them and John shut the computer off. He began to run back to Skinner's SUV. "John!" Skinner yelled. "Where are you going?"  
  
John stopped and turned around. "I need to sleep," he said, leaving Skinner dumbfounded. Skinner sighed and ran after him. 


	9. Dream World Awakened

Chapter 9 - Dream World Awakened  
  
John Doggett's House. 4:56 PM. John woke up before Monica. He just laid there and watched her sleep on his chest. Her brown hair falling in her face, John brushed it back. He wondered what Monica was dreaming about, if anything. He still felt bad for what happened and wanted to make it up to her. Maybe make a nice dinner, so they could talk. He moved her back a little and sat up and took a shower and got dressed. When he came out Monica was still asleep. He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead and then made his way downstairs, to get his car keys and left. He got in his Lexus and then another image flashed in his mind. An image of John and Monica going to her apartment, and then someone or something slamming into them. He held his hand out next to him in the empty seat; the image was so vivid that he was actually acting it out. He watched as his mind showed him and Monica lying in his Lexus, unconscious as sirens and various sounds of the paramedics made their way over. John sat still frozen as he looked over to where his hand was at, protecting the empty seat. He moved it back and held onto the steering wheel tightly. He couldn't understand these images, but he shook them off and left to buy groceries.  
  
Monica woke up to an empty bed; she smiled thinking maybe John was in the bathroom. "John? Are you taking a shower?" she asked. No answer. "John," she called out. She looked over at the nightstand where a small clock laid, and saw it was after five. "John, what are you doing?"  
  
Silence. She smiled and got up, stumbling in the bathroom, only to find it empty. Maybe he was downstairs watching television or perhaps cooking dinner. Monica scurried downstairs, but the kitchen was empty. "John?" she called out, looking at the front door, nothing. She went out back and looked for him. The backyard was empty except for a handful of birds over by the trees. Monica checked back upstairs. It was no use, the house was empty, and this made Monica worry. She sat on the couch, pulling her legs up to her chest, and waited it out. John walked in an hour later, groceries in hand as he heard soft sobs. "Monica?" he asked, worried. He put the groceries down and walked over to Monica as she looked up at him. "I thought you left." she sobbed.  
  
"I did. I just went to buy groceries, so I could make us a nice dinner."  
  
"No," Monica sobbed. "I thought you left me." John smiled sweetly at her. "Left you? Why would you think that?"  
  
Monica sobbed, shaking her head. "I guess I'm just confused right now.overly emotional." John came up and sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Never think that Mon," he said. "Never think that. I promise, I'll never leave you." Monica looked into his eyes, carefully inspecting them, trying to find what she saw, and she did. She saw an honest, caring man, who loved her deeply. "How about I make us a nice dinner and we can watch a movie or something?" he asked her. His hand placed on her cheek as he massaged it with his thumb. Monica nodded as she put her hand over his. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her lips. John stood up as Monica laid back and watched him pick up the groceries and enter the kitchen. He looked over at the calendar and it said it was Sunday. "Today's Monday, right?" John asked. "No, Sunday."  
  
John paused, staring at the calendar. "Sunday? But yesterday was Sunday."  
  
He heard Monica laughing. "John where's your head? Today is Sunday. Tomorrow is Monday and yesterday was Saturday." ("There is one way to know if it's a coma victim making contact." "How's that?" "The continuing dream may go on for days, but it'll still be the same day. The day it happened.") John remembered that the last three days had indeed been on a Sunday. "Need any help in there?" Monica asked. John came to and forgot about his thoughts when she called out to him. "No, I'm uh fine. Just relax. I'll be there soon." Monica smiled and leaned back and closed her eyes. John peeked in the kitchen and looked at her for a second and then moved back in the kitchen. He suddenly remembered everything; the coma, the accident, AD Skinner, Frohike and Monica's mother. Her mother wanted to pull the plug on Monica. Monica needed John's help; maybe if he talked to her, she could somehow remember what happened. John prepared a small dinner. Two roast sandwiches with a fresh Caesar salad and a bottle of champagne. A bottle John didn't know he had until he looked around in his refrigerator. Monica, who was humming to herself, laid back on the couch and waited for John. "Almost done," he said, putting everything on two trays. He brought one out one step at a time. When he had the second tray he sat down next to Monica and opened the bottle of champagne. "This looks great, John."  
  
John smiled as he put his hand across her cheek and leaned in and kissed her. He wanted to cry, but he held in the tears he had. He was afraid to start the conversation, although he knew he had, but first he decided to wait until they ate. Monica and John sat across from one another and quietly ate their dinner. John kept trying to think of what to say. Monica just sat there, often looking up at John. It was the most awkward dinner ever. Finally, when they were finished, John set aside their trays and Monica moved over closer to John. "Want to cuddle for a bit?" Monica asked.  
  
"Wow, it seems as if it's been forever since we've seen AD Skinner and Mulder and Scully," John said ignoring her. Monica paused for a second, looking into his eyes. Something was definitely on his mind. "Well, we'll see them tomorrow," she said. "It's only been a couple of days, John."  
  
"What if tomorrow is Sunday, again?"  
  
"Again? John are you feeling alright?" Monica asked. She put her hand on his head. "I think you have a fever." "No, Mon," John said, pulling her hand away from him. "I don't. You need help."  
  
"Help?" Monica asked, worried. "What kind of help?"  
  
John swallowed the lump that was deep in his throat and exhaled. "Three days ago, you were in a car accident."  
  
Monica's eyes widened, "an accident?" she questioned. "I'm sorry John, I don't seem to remember that."  
  
John shook his head and put his finger up, silencing her. "Just listen okay?" he asked. Monica nodded approvingly. "Something happened. You were - we were both in a car accident and something happened."  
  
"What?" Monica asked, somewhat interested. "You went into a coma, and.you're still in it."  
  
There John had said it. Silence. Monica stared blankly had him and then laughed. "John, if you didn't want to cuddle, you could have just told me so," she laughed again. John had a frustrated look on his face. This was going to be harder than he thought. Monica stopped laughing, but still had a smile on her face. She was trying to hold in the laughter. John moved in closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Monica, this isn't real. Don't you see? The last three days after the accident, every day has been Sunday and what's going on now is through a dream. I'm dreaming this and you're in it. You're coming in through your coma. You're trying to connect with me."  
  
Monica didn't understand what had gotten into John. She smiled weakly and then put her hand on his stomach. "Are you feeling alright? Is your stomach upset again or something?"  
  
John got up and stood across from her. "Damnet, Mon. I'm serious here. I know this sounds strange to you, and it does to me too, but it's the truth. It's an X-Files, I'm sure, but if you don't start believing', you're not gonna be seein' much more of me.anytime soon."  
  
Monica stood up; she saw the fear in John's eyes. "What are you saying? You want me to leave or something?"  
  
John stared blankly at her. "What? No. No. I don't. I'm saying," he stopped for a second and grabbed her hands and sat down next to her, his hands feeling the top of hers. "I'm saying, that your Mother wants to pull the plug on you.she wants to end your suffering. The doctors are forcing her into something she doesn't want to do and she won't listen to anyone else, but them." "John, I don't understand why you're telling me all of this. This is absurd."  
  
"I know it is.and as a non-believer, this is really out of this world, especially to me, but I'm doing it for you Monica," John stopped as he thought about the day before yesterday when they saw Mulder and Scully at the accident. "Do you remember," he continued, "When we were driving past your apartment, and there was a blockage near the road and two agents were out investigating?"  
  
Monica nodded, her hands a little sweaty, she tried to pull them back, embarrassed by them, but John held on. "That's where it happened.Monica. A drunk driver hit us. Now all I got away with were minor scratches and bruises, but if you hadn't put on your seat belt, and if I hadn't. We'd be dead." Monica was speechless. What could she say to John? How could she believe such a thing? John saw right through her and knew she was just as clueless as before. Then he thought if in his dreams he saw the accident, maybe there'd be a clue at the hospital. "Come on," John said, still holding onto her hands as they sat up. "Where are we going?" Monica asked. John turned his head sideways and said, "I'm going to prove to you, that what's going on is true." Monica sighed as they got into his Lexus and drove to George Washington hospital. "John, really now, this is a waste."  
  
"Yeah, wasting much needed time," he grumbled. Monica sighed again and just kept her stare outside the window.  
  
John hurried up and parked in the hospital's parking lot and grabbed Monica and literally dragged her into the building. "John? John?"  
  
He ignored her cries to stop and went up in the elevators to where her room was outside of his dreams. He peered inside and gasped. Monica looked over at him, not seeing inside. "What's going on?"  
  
He opened the door and Monica looked in and took a double take. Inside lying on a bed was Monica. John walked in followed by Monica. "What's going on?" she asked him. "Well, before I thought if my theory was right, I figured, we'd see you here in the hospital, and so here we are." "I don't understand."  
  
"I know.Monica.I told you. You're in a coma. All of this, us standing here, these last few days, they never happened. They're all inside my head, through my dreams, through your coma. Monica, you're coming through to me in dreamland, so I can help you get out." Monica looked at herself for several seconds before getting enough courage to look John in the eyes. Her own eyes watered. She finally understood. She didn't say anything to John, but rather ran out. "Monica?" John called out. "Monica?!"  
  
He ran outside and saw her heading down the hall. People watched her pass by. John took off after her, trying to get by people that got in his way. Monica ran into a gurney and fell back, crying. John slid on the floor, instantly stopping to a halt. No one seemed to notice their discomfort. Everyone seemed like zombies. John grabbed Monica and pulled her in for a hug. She began to cry out. "I knew. Oh God. I knew. I knew. I knew," she repeated over and over as John tried to quiet her down. He pulled away, still holding onto her arms. "You knew what?" he asked weakly. "I knew something was wrong.I knew everyday was Sunday, but I thought maybe it was for the best. Like nothing could hurt us. That our love was growing and God was giving us a chance to expand that love.I was afraid to say anything. I know what a skeptic you are, John."  
  
Her eyes watered even more after saying that and John pulled her in for another tight embrace. "I'm sorry for being one," he said. "Monica, I know I freaked out when you told me about Luke, but I promise I'll never do that again. Don't ever be afraid to tell me something that's on your mind, especially if it does relate to the paranormal, because I'm here to listen and I know it's hard, because you do know me. You know me more than I'll ever know myself, but I'll try to listen and be here for you."  
  
"Thank you," Monica whispered. John kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you.for being apart of my life," John whispered in her ear. Monica stopped crying. She let John hold her and then she broke free and he helped her up. They slowly made their way back inside the room. John's arm around her waist. When Monica walked in first, she quickly turned around and buried her face in John's chest. "I don't want to go back," she cried. "We still gotta figure out how to get you back."  
  
"No, John," she said, looking up at him and looking into his eyes. "I don't want to leave what we have here."  
  
"Monica, I know you don't. I don't either, but it's not real."  
  
Monica shook her head. "I know, but it's been fun right? We get Sunday every day. We can do whatever we want. No work, no nothing. It's like an episode of I Dream of Jeannie."  
  
"Monica, I can't keep waking up and actually finding you here like this. Don't you understand? It's tearing me apart. This dream may be real, but it's not. You can stay here. I can't. I gotta wake up to the truth. Something I don't wanna wake up to."  
  
Monica, felt bad for what John said. She looked over at herself and realized that she didn't like seeing herself like that either. "What if we can bring me back, will everything that has happened to us end? Will we have to start over?"  
  
"No, I don't think so, Mon. When I wake up, I feel the closeness, and you're experiencing it eye to eye, you won't forget and I won't. Of course, it'll be hard, since we'll only have one Sunday every six days."  
  
This made Monica laugh, and that laugh put a smile on John Doggett's face. He put his hands on her cheeks and brushed away the tears. "You won't forget Monica," he said. "But we need to get you back, agreed?"  
  
She nodded. "The doctors have been telling your Mom wild ideas, about how you'll never come back, so they want her to pull the plug."  
  
Monica grabbed John's arm. He felt a pinch of pain from her nails, but ignored it. "We can stop them right.?"  
  
John gave a worried expression. "I have only one idea, but it's a risk.I'm just wondering if it's a risk we're both willing to take." "Tell me what you have in mind?"  
  
"Well, when I wake up, I figured maybe I'll pull the plug on you," before he could finish Monica's eyes widened in fright. "What?"  
  
John put his hands up in defense and continued, "you'll be here, so when I do pull the plug, something will happen here. Then that will be your chance to pull the plug on yourself, and the shock of this happening will send an electrical shock to your brain and bring you back."  
  
Monica paused, looking over at herself and then at John. "How will I know when to do it?" she asked. John shrugged. "I don't know how, but you will. Something will happen." "How do you know?" Monica asked quietly. John looked at her, his feelings for her deepening. "I just have a gut feeling."  
  
"Maybe, Luke is telling you somehow.although that sounds crazy."  
  
John shook his head. "That sounds just about right. I think maybe he is."  
  
Monica smiled and John leaned in and kissed her. "We'll wait until I wake up to do it. I don't know when I'll wake up, but when I do, I'll be right here," he said, looking over at Monica on the bed. "Trust me, okay?" he said. Monica nodded. "I promise, nothing will change. Besides, I figure when you come to, Skinner will be kind enough to give us a week off and then we can do whatever we want together. Cuddle, go out shopping, relax at home. Whatever."  
  
"So, you'll still want me to hangout at your place?" Monica laughed. "Sure, I'll even give you a key to my house."  
  
"And I'll give you the keys to my apartment," Monica joked. "It'll be like teenage dating all over again."  
  
John laughed lightly. "Exactly.but you know, if you ever want to leave your crummy apartment, you could always stay with me, for however long you want."  
  
Monica's lips curled into a small smile. She blushed. "Thank you, John. I'd love that." "Nothing's too good for my Mon," he said, brushing back locks of her brown hair out of her face. "So, once you wake up, this will happen?" Monica asked. John nodded, leaning in and kissing her on her lips. He massaged her cheek with his thumb. "I love you and don't you forget that either," he told her. She put her hand over his and for the first time since they first connected back in the Lexus, John wanted to pull away from fear, but he let her hold on. He wished he knew for sure if their plan was worth it. Monica pulled John in closer and they kissed again for a longer time. Her kiss proved it was worth the risk. 


	10. All Good Dreams Must Come To An End

Chapter 10 - All Good Dreams Must Come To An End  
  
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 10:00 AM. "John? John? What are you doing?"  
  
John was in Monica's hospital room, apparently asleep mumbling incoherently about Monica, he also in-between breaths was lightly kissing the sheets on Monica's bed. Skinner grasped John's shoulder and shook him really hard, waking him up. John looked up, "Monica?" he called out. He looked over and saw her on the bed. He turned around and saw a bewildered AD Skinner. "Should I uh leave you and the sheets alone?" Skinner laughed. John blinked several times, at first not understanding. Then he remembered the kiss. He jumped up from the bed and pressed the alarm button off and lifted up a small-enclosed plastic cover for a red button on Monica's machine and was about to press it when Skinner immediately pulled him back. He held onto his shirt collar and threw him against the hospital door. "What the hell are you doing, agent?" Skinner barked. John looked at him for several minutes. "I'm trying to save Monica's life."  
  
"Monica's Mother already wants to pull the plug, and you agreed that we wanted to stop her, now you want to do the same thing?" "Sir, you don't understand. Remember what Frohike said? He mentioned dreams and coma victims trying to come through-"  
  
"He also said," Skinner interrupted, "that something like that has never been proved to have happened."  
  
"But it has!" John exclaimed. "Monica is coming to me through my dreams, she needs my - she needs our help, sir." Skinner skimmed John's eyes, trying to see whether or not he believed him. "We need to do this. I talked to her in my dream and she has agreed to pull the plug once I do. I have a feeling this will bring her back."  
  
"What if it doesn't?" Skinner asked impatiently. John swallowed hard. "It's a risk she and I have agreed to take."  
  
Skinner sighed deeply and let John go. He stared at him intensely, looking over at Monica and then back at John. "I think you know what you're doing agent, I don't know why, but I do. I won't go along with it, but I know how much you care for her, so I'll let you do this, but I'm not for it."  
  
John gave a weak smile. It was a small thank you to Skinner, who didn't smile back. His expression remained emotionless as John walked over to Monica's bed. "I love you and don't you forget that," he whispered and leaned in and kissed her. He was still kissing her, as his arm reached over and pressed the small red button. Tears began to come out in the corners of his eye. He kept his lips on Monica, his eyes closed; he placed his hand on top of hers as Skinner closed his eyes too, preparing for what would come next. Not exactly understanding why he let Agent Doggett pull the plug. John let out a sharp cry as he moved back, watching her monitor die down. Monica's breathing slowed down to a dead halt and Skinner opened his eyes to find a crying John Doggett in front of him. Skinner walked up to him and put his hands on his shoulders and looked over at Monica. Nothing happened and this brought more tears to John. He had failed them both.  
  
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 11:28 PM. Monica looked up and saw that John was gone, she let out a sad whimper and looked over at herself and saw a glow. A small yellowish glow that lit up the whole room. John had pulled the plug and now it was Monica's turn. John was right; she would know when it was going to happen. She walked over to herself slowly, scared and yet excited at the same time, wanting to see John again would not be too soon. She pressed the red button and just stared at herself on the bed. "Please," she cried. "Let me remember."  
  
GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL. 10:34 AM. Monica remained still for several seconds after he pulled the plug. "She's gone," John whispered to himself. "I was wrong..."  
  
"John," Skinner said, "she is in a better place now."  
  
"Yeah. Yeah with Luke," John said barely above a whisper, but Skinner had still heard him. John hoped what he had said about Monica being with Luke was true, although he wanted her there with him. He didn't want her to be gone, and she was too young to leave. She still had her whole life ahead of her. He turned around and hugged Skinner, crying, and not even caring that he was showing such emotions in front of Skinner, for the girl he had loved and gotten to know was dead. "John?" John looked over and saw Monica looking over at him, her eyes half closed. "We did it?" she asked. John smiled an ear-to-ear grin. "We did it," he whispered in amazement, still crying. Skinner's eyes widened as he saw before him Monica, alive and well. John rushed up against Monica and pulled her in for a tight hug. "You're alive," he cried. "You're alive." Monica began to cry, as she held John's back tightly, never wanting to let go of him. She looked up and saw AD Skinner, smiling up at her. "Agent," he said. Monica smiled at him. "Welcome back."  
  
"Thank you, sir," she said in-between sobs. AD Skinner stayed a few more minutes and watched the love between Monica and John. This moment even put a tear in his eye, and he finally took his leave. Before he left, he turned around and took one last glimpse of the two. Monica's eyes now closed, they were both crying. Skinner nodded, agreeing with their love and shut the door and left them in peace. John was the first to pull away. He brushed back Monica's fallen locks of brown hair and smiled brightly at her, not wanting to take his eyes off of her saddened face. "Do you remember everything that happened?" he asked. She nodded, "I think so. I take it, of course, that you do?"  
  
John nodded. "So, where do we go from here?" she asked. "Well, your dreams or mine?" he asked playfully.  
  
Monica laughed and then threw her arms around John and kissed him. "I love you, John," she cried. "I love you more than ever." Her words hit John hard. He believed in the love they shared. "I love you too."  
  
"I believe God helped us here today." she cried. "I do too," John said in a light whisper.  
  
"I believe Luke did as well."  
  
"I personally know that he did," John replied. "He's here with us now."  
  
"I believe it."  
  
They stopped talking and kissed one last time, and ever-lasting kiss that just proved that their hidden love became an ever-lasting love.  
  
THE END 


End file.
